


Blood Feathers

by KDblack



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, BAMF Zack Fair, Gen, Post-Nibelheim Incident (Compilation of FFVII), Zack Fair Lives, could be zack/cloud if you squint, trauma feathers and other things to pack on the trip back to midgar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29708070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDblack/pseuds/KDblack
Summary: Monstrosity isn’t quick or clean. It comes in slowly, pinfeathers blooming from the torn flesh of Zack’s back, and itches like hell. At first, he grits his teeth and tries not to touch them. He may not recognize the sensation, but he knows what raw nerves feel like when exposed to pressure. When he forgets himself, his fingers come away bloody.(After escaping from the labs, Zack finds himself walking down the same path as his predecessors. At least Cloud's still breathing for now.)
Relationships: Zack Fair & Cloud Strife
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: FFVII Secret Spring





	Blood Feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainbowfantasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowfantasy/gifts).



> Blood feather: a new feather still growing in that has nerves and blood supply in the shaft. A blood feather has not yet hardened and is more prone to breakage. Sometimes called a pinfeather.

Monstrosity isn’t quick or clean. It comes in slowly, pinfeathers blooming from the torn flesh of Zack’s back, and itches like hell. At first, he grits his teeth and tries not to touch them. He may not recognize the sensation, but he knows what raw nerves feel like when exposed to pressure. When he forgets himself, his fingers come away bloody. 

It’s not that bad – no, it is pretty bad, actually. Pain aside, the mess is awful, and they aren’t exactly swimming in spare clothes. But Cloud stays quiet, agreeable, and comatose, so soaked in mako that dirt and bacteria dissolve after a few hours of contact, so Zack only has to worry about himself. You know, when he’s not spacing out for hours, phantom wounds opening and reopening. He wasn’t really awake to feel them the first time. Now they’re determined to make up for that absence.

Everywhere hurts. Whatever Hojo did to him, it left his skin tight and sore, just like it was after his first SOLDIER treatments, but the pain is always worst on his back, between his shoulder blades. When the muscles begin to spasm, he has to stop hauling Cloud forward and crouch down for a bit. Sink his fingers into the dirt until his back stops trying to rip itself apart. 

“Sorry, Spike.” He laughs harshly. “Getting back to Midgar might take a bit longer than I thought.”

Cloud doesn’t complain. Cloud doesn’t do anything. He might as well be dead, lying there slumped on his side, eyes glowing and totally empty. Zack slaps on the best smile he can and breathes slowly, trying to ride out the pain. Gotta be a good example to the troops.

But they already left Shinra, didn’t they? No way they’re still on the payroll. Though it’d be funny if they were. 

“Maybe, if we’re lucky, Reno demanded they keep me legally alive. We were friends, I think. I could’ve been racking up backpay this whole time. I could be getting paid right now.” Another burst of laughter. “Imagine their faces if I walked in and asked for my paycheque!”

It’s pretty funny, but not funny enough for Cloud. That’s all right. Zack didn’t tell it for him, not really.

Finally, the pain subsides. Zack gets back up, stretches cautiously, and groans. “All right, that’s enough messing around. How many more miles to Midgar?”

Answer: a lot. More than Zack’s comfortable thinking about. But then, he’s not comfortable thinking about much these days. His senses aren’t trustworthy. The taste of mako lingers on his tongue. Whenever he looks too long at his body, he spots scars he doesn’t remember getting. When he scratches clumsily at his back, he’s greeted with sharp pain and bits of broken feathers.

He gets better at being delicate eventually. Kinda has to. The more feathers grow in, the more it hurts to break them. Zack can’t keep Cloud moving if he’s doubled over from pain. So he figures out how much pressure the feathers need, finger-grooms them when they get stuck to the inside of his uniform, learns how to hold his shoulders so they don’t cramp up. It’d be easier if they would quit growing. By the time they finally reach Midgar, it’s getting really hard to pretend he doesn’t know what’s going on.

At least the flight feathers that twitch and make little, abortive flaps against his skin are soft grey. If they were black or white, he doesn’t think he’d be able to take it.

Grey is… all right. Different enough that he can make it his own. You know, if he survives this.

The guns raised by a hundred, thousand, million Shinra grunts are gunmetal grey, too.

“Boy oh boy, the price of freedom sure is steep.” He grins despite himself. Raises his sword. Goes to say something else and stops. Shudders for a moment. Then he gasps as the knot in his back finally comes undone. 

Wings flare out on either side of him, primaries filling his peripheral vision. They don’t look quite organic; each feather gleams like liquid metal. A shudder runs through the assembled forces, and he can’t blame them. He must be bringing back a ton of bad memories right now. Assuming that Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth haven’t just been erased and disappeared, like him and Cloud.

“Sorry,” he says in the moment before the first finger closes on the trigger, “I can’t afford to die today.”

Cloud needs him. They’re almost home free. And even with the blazing sun beating down on him and the back of his shirt torn open to expose the deepest scar Hojo left him, Zack feels lighter than he has in years.

He comes back to himself just in time to find Cloud waking up, pale blond lashes sweeping over deathly-pale cheeks. Zack has blood between his teeth, bruises all over his wings, deep aches where bullets just failed to penetrate his thick skull. All of that flies away as he hurries to Cloud’s side.

“Spike! Hold on, don’t try and sit up yet. You’ll be in trouble if you fall and hit your head.”

Blue eyes gaze up at him, trying to focus. “…Zack?”

It’s a soft rasp, barely even a whisper, spoken in the uncertain tone of a boy – a man, sheesh, isn’t that weird to think about – who isn’t quite sure what he’s saying. Doesn’t matter. In that moment, Cloud’s the centre of the whole damn world.

“Yeah,” Zack says, his throat choked up with blood and tears. “It’s me. We’re almost back to Midgar. I’m gonna keep you safe, all right? No matter what.”

Cloud nods, eyes still focused, and tips forward into Zack’s arms. He’s running SOLDIER hot. Muscle jumps erratically under Zack’s hands. He must be in a lot of pain, but he’s moving, no longer a delicate little corpse. Zack gathers him up and holds him close. A curtain of feathers wrap around them.

All SOLDIERs become monsters, it seems. If that transformation means keeping Cloud alive, then Zack will accept it with open arms.


End file.
